The Memo
It wasn't often that Gabriel found himself in the library. It was too easy for him to get any information he needed from his living room couch. Most often in the late hours of night, with lights low and a surging Ornette Coleman pacing his study.
Gabriel was in the library because he was told to go there. He was sent to the library in a memo e-mailed from his own e-mail address. He ignored the first few e-mails and feverishly went through his routine of password account cleaning, data removal, and reformatting. He had even filed for an e-mail account renewal through the communitcation mainframe, something he usually only did during his yearly identity cleaning process. The mail kept coming though and so he knew he must go.
It was 3:45 am and the only thing on the fifth floor that was black was his coffee. He'd paced the isles of books continuously for the last fifteen minutes doing his best to be discreet.
Gabriel was in the library because he was told to go there. He was sent to the library in a memo e-mailed from his own e-mail address. He ignored the first few e-mails and feverishly went through his routine of password account cleaning, data removal, and reformatting. He had even filed for an e-mail account renewal through the communitcation mainframe, something he usually only did during his yearly identity cleaning process. The mail kept coming though and so he knew he must go.
It was 3:45 am and the only thing on the fifth floor that was black was his coffee. He'd paced the isles of books continuously for the last fifteen minutes doing his best to be discreet.
